Lonely
by i-gave-me-away
Summary: It gets tiring. Being lonely, that is.


Disclaimer: Same 'ol. Don't sue me, pretty please.

Author's note: My first. That's all ).

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It gets tiring. Being lonely, that is.

Bobby's head is tilted to the right, forehead resting on his palm, supported by his elbow lying near the edge of the desk. His legs are crossed underneath, right over left.

Watching.

Being lonely is frustrating and extremely, extremely hard. Hiding it is...was the easiest thing in the world. It...was easy because he's, by nature, not overly talkative or overly quiet and always polite. Genuinely so. And when you're, by nature, not overly talkative or overly quiet and always polite, well, people don't ask questions.

They never suspect a thing.

Enter Eames. Alex. Eames.

The only person that could ever possibly know more about him than he does himself.

It gets tiring. Being lonely, that is.

So he rests. And he watches.

The tips of her pale, slender fingers glide across the papers. She fingers the edge for a moment until there's a crackle as she finally gets the page turned. Her brows furrow as her other hand reaches up to her neck and slowly massages the knots that had formed there while she had been reading the reports. She sighs, and the hand drops to rest just below her clavicle. The exposed skin is a delicate shade of pink.

Bobby's eyes become a slight squint and an eyebrow slightly lifts. He shifts.

Alex hears him. Looking up, her eyes find his. "Bobby?"

He sits up in his chair and frowns, looking down, waving his hand as if to say it was nothing. Time to look busy.

His eyes scan his desk, taking in the piles of papers and folders. Alright, then. Time to work.

But his mind can't focus because there's this distraction in front of him, five foot four of pure purity. He can't help but look up again and steal a glance; she's resumed reading.

Alex looks up again, sensing his gaze, and clenches her jaw, searching his face. As if she has made her mind, she stands up and walks the three feet to Bobby's chair, grabbing his arm. Her attempt to pull him up fails. "Come on, let's go."

"Eames, wh-what are you doing?" he manages to stutter.

"Just come on."

The thought of a scowled-face Deakins comes into mind, but he complies, of course. Because that's who he is.

Because it's her.

Immediately after Bobby stands from his chair, Alex drops his arm like a hot bar of steel. It's not personal, he understands, it's just not professional. People watch them, he knows. She knows. People like to speculate, like to gossip, like to wonder. It's all understandable. It's human nature.

It's all understandable, but as soon as she lets go his body cries out for her touch. Silently, of course.

He follows her to the elevator, out the door, and to the car, getting in on the passenger side. She hops into the driver seat and closes the door. The engine starts, and suddenly the car is moving out of the parking lot, and into bustling traffic. Finally, the car comes to a stop in front of a quaint little diner that looks like it came out of a movie.

For a minute none of them so much as moves, but Alex finally speaks. "Hungry?"

Bobby nods. "Sure," he lies. "How'd you find this place?" They both get out of the car and start towards the entrance.

She shrugs. "I dunno, just found it one day," she says vaguely.

When they walk in, a waiter greets them, insisting they find a seat. They head for the nearest vacant booth and slide into the cushioned seats facing each other. Silence hangs over them until after they've ordered their coffee.

"I thought you needed a break," explains Alex.

"Yeah. Me too."

No other words are spoken.

They finish their coffee and pay for it, making sure to leave a tip. He follows her out the exit and to the car, getting in on the passenger side. And she hops into the driver seat, closing the door as she turns on the engine. The car starts to move and finally the car is back in the parking lot, out of bustling traffic. They get out and walk together back to their desks, taking their seats. Bobby's able to focus now, able to finish the work before him.

It gets tiring. Everything, that is.

He wants her and he has her, but he doesn't really have her at all.

He's thankful, that she's there. Because with her he's not so lonely anymore. Because one day, he will never be lonely again.


End file.
